


Car Crash, Heart Smash

by JoJoSanders413



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, High School AU, M/M, read at your own peril, royality, seriously it's just angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-18
Updated: 2018-09-18
Packaged: 2019-07-13 20:02:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16024985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JoJoSanders413/pseuds/JoJoSanders413
Summary: so this is my uhh second Sanders Sides fic ever and my first angst fic so please bring any issues I missed to my attention I wrote this without proofreading on not many hours of sleep





	Car Crash, Heart Smash

**Author's Note:**

> so this is my uhh second Sanders Sides fic ever and my first angst fic so please bring any issues I missed to my attention I wrote this without proofreading on not many hours of sleep

Patton rarely became upset with Roman, or at the very least, he very rarely stayed upset. Threats were one thing and a complete dedication to an action was another entirely, one to which Patton was not accustomed when it came to grudges. And besides, Patton always wondered how someone could come to dislike his boyfriend, the king of the stage who always graced the students he passed in the hallway with a bright grin and a polite nod. Whatever their reason, he just assumed it was due to a misunderstanding and carried on. And Roman, whenever he saw Patton, was filled with a newfound hope for humanity and everything that it could be if it just tried to care. The two had always seemed to be born for each other, and nobody who saw them together could imagine them apart. And that was very much true for them outside the eye of the school public. "Studying" at either of their houses mostly consisted of a few pecks on the cheek, giggling, and at least one of them falling asleep on the other's shoulder. They were beautiful and they were kind, they were sweet and they stated their minds, they loved each other as scientists love the stars, and they always knew what to say to each other.

Patton was Roman's life and Roman was Patton's love and they fit together like the first two puzzle pieces you get to stick. They clicked with each other, they danced with each other, they laughed with each other, they loved with each other. Whenever one had important news, the other was the first to hear. The first to hear the good and the bad and unbelievable and the sad. Everything was normal. Patton had driven home and was waiting for Roman to join him after rehearsal ended. But the clock wouldn't stop ticking and a knock didn't come at the door. Patton waited and waited, staring and hoping, absently scratching hearts on his arms and worrying without words. The phone buzzed urgently, one, two, three, four times. He picked it up, suddenly alert and found a call from an unknown number. He answered and hesitantly raised the device to his ear. "Hello? Who's calling?" Static reigned for a moment. "Is this, um, Patton Sanders?" asked a tinny voice. Patton frowned. "Yes, who is this? What's this about?" A slight pause. "We need you to come to the hospital, Mr. Sanders. somebody's asked for you."

Patton's heart stopped beating. "I'll be right there," he whispered, rising quickly to grab his car keys and go out the door. He could barely breathe as he completed the drive to the hospital, worrying and worrying, trying to calm himself down and desperately failing. Roman, Roman, Roman, please be okay, he thought. I don't know what I'd do without you, please. As he pulled into the parking lot and rushed inside he started to feel tears running down his cheeks and he hastily wiped them away with the sleeve of his jacket. He walked up to the reception desk, nervously shifting his weight from foot to foot. "Hello," he said anxiously, "my name is Patton Sanders? I got a call?" The receptionist glanced down at a list of names, put a check mark next to his name, and put a clipboard with a form on it on the desk. "Sign here, please. The doctor will be right here to get you." Patton swallowed nervously and filled out the identification. This can't be happening, it's a bad dream, that's all this is, you'll wake up any time now. This isn't real, Patton, it's not real, it can't be real, okay?

"Mr. Sanders," a voice said in his ear, "Mr. Sanders, we don't have much time, we need to get you to your friend. Can you hear me?" Patton dimly recognized the white-coated figure of a doctor and nodded lethargically, still preoccupied with his now half-hearted attempts to convince himself that nothing was wrong at all and he'd wake up anytime cuddling Roman. He could remember hallways and walking through them but never any details about them, it was always dark and it was always blurry and the shadows were trying to take over his vision. He walked and he walked for what felt like forever until he was ushered through the door of a hospital room. Lying in the bed, barely breathing, and hooked up to an unfamiliar machine was a boy he knew far too well, a boy he knew better than himself. "Roman!" he tried to yell, but it came out as a choked sob. He flew forward to his boyfriend's side and threw himself on the hospital bed crying his heart out. He felt a hand gently rest on his shoulder to try and pull him away but he only clutched the thin sheets tighter, sobbing. "P-Pat.." he heard Roman say weakly, "'m sorry." Patton looked up in time to see his love's heartbeat fade to nothing and he heard someone screaming. By the time he realized it was him he could see everything fading to black.

Patton regained consciousness with a sharp gasp and sat up suddenly, seeing nothing but darkness. After a moment he realized his eyes were swollen from crying and a crust had formed around them. Everything felt unnatural to the touch, even his own face, and when he stumbled to a mirror he barely recognized the boy looking back at him. His throat hurt and his eyes ached and he didn't remember getting home the night before. His first instinct was to text Roman and he'd picked up his phone and started typing before he remembered. He downed the glass of water one of his parents had left on his nightstand and curled up on his side on his bed staring at the wall. He found himself whispering "this can't be real, this can't be real, this can't be real..." over and over without seeming likely to stop. Was this what the movies meant when they said somebody's world stopped? Was this what it was like to have your heart ripped out? He didn't know what was happening, couldn't comprehend what his brain and body were telling him. Why did it turn out this way? Why couldn't he have died instead? Anything would be better than living like this. Anything. Anything. Anything. Anything.

Patton could remember pain. He remembered breaking his arm on the playground when he was nine, smashing his head on a rock in the stream when he was six, falling out of a tree when he was thirteen, slamming his pinky in a door when he was fifteen, but never, ever had it felt as bad as he did right then. This isn't real, this can't be real, it wouldn't happen, Roman's fine, he's just joking around...right? Someone knocked lightly on Patton's door. "Patton, sweetie? Are you awake?" Patton whimpered in response, his throat still hurt too much to even try speaking. Even if it hadn't, he might not have bothered to try. Patton's father slowly opened the bedroom door and walked in to kneel next to his son's bed. "Hey, kiddo," he said, "can you look at me?" Patton complied, face streaked with new tears and contorted in pain. "It hurts," he tried to say, but no sound came out, "it hurts so much." His father ruffled his hair gently. "It's hard, kiddo. It's awful hard to lose somebody close to you. Me and your mom, we want to help you. You can tell us anything, I promise." Patton nodded and curled back into a ball. "You're excused from school for a few days so you can rest up from everything. Come on down when you're ready for breakfast."

Patton didn't acknowledge anything more. He didn't know anything. Everywhere he looked, he saw Roman, so everywhere he looked he saw pain and he saw death and it hurt him. He stayed in his room, he barely ate, he didn't talk, he couldn't even bring himself to wash his face most of the time. Roman's face was all he could here, and Roman's voice was all he could hear. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry." repeated endlessly, looping through his head, through the minutes and hours and days. It was part of his life. His "new" life. Why make something new, he thought, when the old one was the best it could have been? He tried to write out his feelings but he ended up with was "I'm sorry." He tried to listen to the music he'd used to love but all he heard was "I'm sorry." He tried to drown himself in art and stories but all he ever saw was "I'm sorry." This was what it felt like to have your heart ripped out. He could say it know. He could look at himself in the mirror and give a clear explanation to his emotions. He would always end up breaking down and crying in the end. "I'm sorry," he'd say to himself every day, "I'm sorry."


End file.
